


Here Just As We Are

by orphan_account



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Abuse, An origin story with smut, Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, I should stop some day, Jet Star - Freeform, M/M, NSFW, Party Poison - Freeform, Poison isn't the reason for the archive warnings, Rayrard - Freeform, partystar, theres not enough Partystar in this world, this is the saddest rayrard I have ever written, today is not that day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:55:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Jet Star and Party Poison ended up running into each other a couple of different times before they started their gang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Just As We Are

The music was blaring and poundin in his ears as people tried talking over it. He knew no one, and would love to keep it that way. Jet wandered around the small club in Zone Four, looking for a quiet place to wait for his group of peers. Unfortunately, they weren't there. Late as usual. So, with a heavy sigh, he sat down on a stool at the bar with a soda he bought earlier.

Suddenly, a dangerous looking killjoy flung himself down on the stool next to him. Startled, he flinched and dropped the soda, all over the man's shirt. Horrified, he attempted to justify his actions. "O-Oh god! I'm so sorry, sir, I'm just-- I was just startled uh, n-not that it's your fault, I--" 

The man chuckled and smirked a little, brushing his shocking red hair behind his ears. "Hey, that's alright. It was an accident, wasn't it?" Jet nodded, eyes wide. "Then, no need to worry. Come with me, kid."

When they were outside the joint, the man flung his jacket and shirt into the sand like they were nothing. He fished around in (presumably his) trunk. "Name and age?"

"Um... Jet Star, I'm twenty." Jet shifted uneasily, not real keen on ending up hurt.

"I'm Party Poison," As if he read his mind, Poison looked at him and lifted an eyebrow, "I won't hurt you. I was just wondering if you had people to stay with. You're real young, you know, you're gonna need someone. Not that I'm much older than you. I just turned twenty one a week ago." 

"Oh. Well, I do, they're just..."

"Too busy to pick up their friend?" Poison looked a little angry, "Tell me, Jet, what are the ages of these guys?"

He became confused. Why was their age important? He answered anyway, "Super Flamed's twenty six, Radio Bleu is thirty, and Poppin' Heads is thirty five. He's our leader. Why?"

His eyes popped, suddenly looking concerned. No, fearful. His tone was sad, "You're way younger than those guys! Are they family?" Jet shook his head, "Then why are you with them?" 

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by one of his group members, Radio, calling for him. "That's my ride, I have to go..."

"Wait," Poison took out a piece of notebook paper and scribbled down his Transmitter PIN number, "If you need help or change your mind about them, call me."

~Two Weeks Later~

"Come ON, Jet, don't be such a wuss!" Super Flamed tugged him by the wrist to the large club building.

"Flames! I don't want to go!" He tried tugging his wrist away, but to no avail.

Heads snorted, "Too bad. This is a team we're on, so you'd better not leave without us." His tone was threatening.

"Yes, Heads..." 

The rest of the night was spent around drunk killjoys who kept flirting with him, glares, and being shoved out of the way by people twice his size. He sat against the wall and sighed, waiting for anyone he knew to come by.

"Kiddo?" He looked up. It was Party Poison, "Hey, you don't look too glad, man. What's up?"

"Heads wanted us to go in here as a team and I just want to go home..." He sighed and gripped each arm tightly across his stomach. Poison saw in his eyes that he wasn't comfortable, and that infuriated him.

"Demand to go home!"

He shook his head, "I tried. I can't come with you though, so..."

Poison gave him a sad look and walked away.

~One Week Later~

Jet walked into a bathroom, but stopped short when he heard moaning from one of the stalls. He decided to just wait it out, avoid eye contact, until whoever it was came out. Turns out, it was Poison. Jet blushed, "O-Oh."

Poison smirked, "Hey beautiful. What's up? Gotta leave anytime soon?" He shook his head, jaw slack. "If you want, I could take you behind here and..." He nodded vigorously, eliciting a chuckle from the red head.

Once they were behind the rest stop, Poison said, "On your back, babe." Blushing, Jet took himself down to the flat dirt. Shuddering, he spread his legs. Poison walked around him, looking him up and down. "Hell yeah. Be right back."

He grabbed a black scarf from his trunk and walked back over to Jet. He wound the scarf around his wrists, and afterward he leaned down and asked, "Hey. Got a safe word?"

"It's, um, it's stop," he answered, body shaking. 

Poison pushed up his sunglasses to his forehead. "You've got really pretty eyes." He flipped him over on his front, "Glad I get to see them like this, my lovely."

He pulled both their pants down and started sucking his fingers. "You know babe," He started as he put one in him slowly. Jet groaned, "It's hard watching you from afar. I see you places I commonly go to and it drives me _nuts_." He put another one in to start slowly stretching him, "You're so beautiful. I might have thought of you in that bathroom stall... Thought of you on the ground beneath me. Like you are now? Yeah. Only I thought of myself in you. I thought of your cute little gasps as I..." He took both fingers out and replaced them, slowly, with something larger. Jet gasped, letting out a broken moan. Poison groaned, "Exactly like that."

He set a steady and gentle pace first, cautious not to hurt Jet. Soon enough, though, neither could control it. Poison was going faster and harder, and Jet was just trying his best to stifle his moans in the ground beneath him.

"Shit-- Fuck-- Jet, ah. You know when you were worried I was dangerous?" He leaned down and whispered in his ears, "Well, now you know why I'm Party Poison." 

Both came, one after the other, overstimulated. Both men were shaking heavily. "Jet... God, lemme get you cleaned up."

He untied his wrists and gently helped him up. They stood there and kissed, eyes closed. Once they were both back to normal, Poison called, "See ya, kid. Call me sometime." And left.

~~

By the time a month had passed from the last incident, the team had apologized for their behavior and Jet moved on. One night, Heads stalked up to Jet, grinning toothily. "Hey, Jet, want to do something fun?"

He found himself trusting them more, so he smiled politely and nodded. "Sure." Once that was said, the entire group loaded up into the car, all smiling for different reasons.

Through the car ride, they were all quiet, aside from the short conversation here and there. They stepped out in front of a small diner and went out on the side of it. 

Suddenly, a hand was over Jet's mouth and both of his were behind his back. He looked up at Heads, confused. Radio pushed him up against the wall, and he and Flamed stepped back. Heads let hot breaths down the side of his neck, causing him to shiver. "Jet, do you know what this is...?"

"N-No... I'm sc-scared...!" A hand wrapped around his throat, not tight enough to have him cease breathing, but tight enough to where he felt dizzy.

"Good." Rough, calloused hands pushed his pants and boxers to the desert floor. One hand was now tightly gripping his hip.

He let out a strangled scream as soon as he figured out what was happening, "S... SOMEONE HELP ME!" 

"No one can hear you! No one even comes out here this late at night," Heads was now growling in his ear, "Now let me do this for you."

Radio's voice called out behind him, "Don't be such a wuss, Jet!"

Flamed crept up next to him, "Just relax, Jetty. We want this for you. Why can't you just be good for us? It'll hurt, but love is supposed to hurt."

By this point, Jet was sobbing heavily. "P-Party!" He started calling out, "Party! PARTY POISON! Help!"

There was a zip of a zipper and a stinging sensation on his neck, "No one can hear you. Just relax. Be a good little sub. We know you can..."

Deciding to give in to fate, he closed his eyes and ignored the creaking of a door from somewhere to the side of him. He ignored how he couldn't feel Radio and Flamed's breathing against his neck. He didn't ignore, however, the unmistakeable setting of a raygun against Heads' neck. 

Poison growled from behind him, "Get off of the kid and leave."

Heads growled, "Who do you think you--" A loud cry as a result of a blast in the side.

"I SAID LEAVE MY DINER, YOU ABUSIVE ASSHOLE." He yelled. Heads and the rest of the team got in the car and zoomed off. Jet slid down the wall to the sand, shaking vigorously. He pulled up his pants, before standing to face Poison. He had the makings of bruises on his neck and thighs, but didn't know it yet.

"I was worried this would happen." Poison leaned in close and wiped the tears from his eyes, his tone soft and gentle, "Older men like preying on the younger zone runners. They like hurting them. They like to manipulate and abuse them. Not all of them. Doctor D, Tommy Chow Mein, just to name a few that are in my good books. But enough to where I was worried that..." 

Jet nodded, "I-I'm sorry I d-didn't listen to you b-before."

"'S alright, kid. C'mon inside, we've got room for you. My pals Ghoul, Kobra, and I will help you get your stuff tomorrow."

They stepped into the diner, breathing in its fresh air. Two men were sitting in one of the booths, looking at the two of them concerned.

"Got it figured out, P?" The blond asked.

"Yeah Kobra, just..." Poison took a glance at Jet. He looked tired and emotionally drained. "Jet, why don't you go rest. My room is the second room on the right in the hall, you can use my mattress." He nodded and walked away quietly.

~~

"Is that dude the one you were talkin' about meeting in Four that one time?" Ghoul asked.

Poison sighed, "Yeah. So, I went outside, after we heard someone yell my name, and these three dudes are surrounding him! I take a closer look, and his pants and underwear are at his ankles, this one dude, looks about 40, has one hand around his neck and one on his waist." 

He paused. Kobra's eyes were wide and Ghoul looked ready to fight. "It took me 0 seconds to figure it out. So I fling two away from him and end up having to shoot the thirty five year old in the side. He was definitely crying by the time they all left." 

"Fucking hell!" Ghoul slammed a fist on the table, "And these were his damn teammates?! That's bullshit. How old were they again??"

"Twenty six, thirty, and thirty five. He's twenty," Kobra replied grimly.

"Twenty fucking years old. Barely older than you, Kobra!" Ghoul was fuming. Poison, on the other hand, looked a little sad.

"I wish so many people didn't have to go through his everyday. I want to help them all..." 

"You can't save everyone, Poison," Kobra replied. He shrugged and without another word, walked past them to bed.

~The Next Morning~

Jet and the others stood at the door of his old base, shaking. He felt like he was about to throw up, until he felt a smooth hand hold his. "They can't hurt you with us here. Promise. I refuse to leave your side. You can do this, knock on the door."

Jet sucked in a breath and knocked, slowly and carefully. Flamed answered, smirking at him. "Oh, if it isn't baby Jet Star. Come back for more dick?"

"I-I... I didn't, actually..."

"Then what's the point of having you here? You're only good for--" 

Poison interjected, cold and angry, "He's here to get his fucking stuff, asswad. Then you'll never see him again. Ever. Come close and we plan on killing you."

Flamed paled, realizing who was speaking. He stepped out of the way, letting Poison and Jet go upstairs with a box and Kobra and Ghoul blocking the stairway.

Jet's room was small and roomy compared to everyone else's. Poison glared at the pile of broken objects. "Did they break things when they got mad?" Jet nodded. He took several deep breaths to avoid lashing out at him about it.

He carefully examined the room, taking note of everything he saw. The lightbulb on the ceiling was broken. Two headless stuffed animals lay on the floor. All picture frames of him and his family back in the city were broken, a few slightly burnt. He watched Jet fold up a blanket and put it in the box. The only other things in it were a box of guitar picks, a stuffed bear with its head sewn back on, and a few clothing items. 

He picked up a guitar case and said, "That's everything... Why are you looking at me like that?"

"They got angry at you, didn't they?" His eyes were so sad looking, but still his normal tone of voice.

"Um... Yes... But they said that..." He started trembling, "No other team would want someone like me."

Poison clutched him to his chest, tears in his eyes, and said, "We want you. I want you."

"Why...?"

Poison, suddenly coming to terms with it, proclaimed, "I... I love you. Like, in a boyfriend way." His voice was shaking and trembling. It didn't sound at all like the fearless Party Poison; He sounded like the meek, scared Gerard Way.

"I love you too..." 

When they arrived back at the diner, Jet and Poison decided that they would both work through this together. After all, that's the way it should be.


End file.
